Sick Days
by nsane1
Summary: Whether it's a bit of a headache or something worse, the ARC team takes care of their own. Shades of Jecker.


Sick Days

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure Primeval belongs to ITV!  
Rating: K+  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: Whether it's a bit of a headache or something worse, the ARC team takes care of their own.

* * *

"Good morning, Jess."

Jess can't help letting out a startled noise when her chair tips back without warning. She grabs the arms of the chair in a white-knuckled grip to fight off the accompanying wooziness. Normally she'd be thrilled at one-on-one time with Becker—she fancies him for sure even if he's 7 years her senior and who's counting, anyway? But today, she has a nasty headache and would really prefer a paracetamol and a lie-down to even a naked Becker.

Well, almost.

"Morning," she says. "Do you need something?" It's a fight to keep a cheery smile on her face. It'd been hard enough to keep up a front for Abby and Connor, and she'd only managed that by staying in her room until the last possible moment and claiming a late start. She'd avoided notice in the car because they'd been having a row, but one-to-one with a fairly observant soldier might be trouble.

It didn't help that he was giving her a concerned look with those gorgeous eyes. Really, it was unfair.

"Jess. Jess! Didn't you hear?"

Hear what? Her mind is a bit fuzzy at the moment. Then the blaring starts, and though her head pounds in time with the noise, she finally focuses.

"Anomaly alert," she says, and realizes the screens are a bit poundy-looking themselves. She frowns at them, and they come back into focus. She finally continues rattling off coordinates and the like. Suddenly, she's startled again by Becker's voice near her ear.

"Are you sure you're okay, Jess?"

"I'm fine, really," she insists, trying hard to be convincing even though the room spins when she turns to look at him with what's meant to be a reassuring smile.

"Just…take care of yourself, year? Dunno where we'd be without you in our heads."

She flushes in a not-unpleasant manner. "Go. Be careful."

They're back before lunch—no creature incursion—so she's able to have her lie-down in lieu of food. Unfortunately, she forgets to set her mobile's alarm, and it's Matt who finds her fast asleep on a couch somewhere dark and quiet.

She frowns when she feels his hand on her shoulder, and pulls away when his hand moves toward her face. "Matt…what?"

"We were worried when you didn't come back from lunch. Becker said this morning you seemed—"

She curses, jumps off the couch, and would've fallen flat on her face if not for Matt's hand on her elbow.

"Steady on there, Jess," he says, now sounding very concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, Matt, honestly. It was just a bit of a headache, and it's gone now," she says as brightly as she can with the floor refusing to stop rocking.

"Jess, the world won't end if you go home. Take the rest of the day off; we'll cover for you with Lester."

She pulls firmly away from him. "I'm fine, Matt. Thanks."

She can tell he doesn't believe her, but he lets her go.

If she thought she could drive safely, she might've gone off early. Instead, she's left at the ADD idly typing away at a press release for the morning's anomaly, which happened in an annoyingly public place. Becker brings her a tea and a muffin and where she'd normally be pleased, all she can muster is a wan smile. He pauses, but sighs and leaves. She does drink the tea and nibble at the muffin. She's still nibbling at it when she hears faint voices behind her.

"Something's off about her." Becker.

"She was out cold when I found her, and she nearly fell over." Matt, of course. She still can't believe she did that.

"We'll keep an eye on her, but there's only so much we can do. She's not a child. Besides, maybe it is just a headache." That's Abby, the voice of reason. Thank you, Abby.

"Ready to go, Jess?" asks Connor, right next to her. He swipes her keys with a grin. "My turn to drive!"

"Yeah, of course, so long as you don't hurt my car," she says, probably overly cheerful in tone. She holds back the wince.

"Feel better, Jess. Take care of that headache," Matt says kindly.

"I'm fine," she insists. "But thank you."

A warm hand is on her shoulder, and she shivers. "We mean it, Jess," murmurs Becker.

"I'm fine," she repeats, with less conviction now that Becker's so very close. It really would be rather lovely to just lean into him and close her eyes…

But he's already moved away.

Despite fighting it desperately, she dozes off in the car, and she can't really remember how she gets into her flat of even that she's in it until she collapses into her bed. Abby comes in with some paracetamol and a glass of water, and Jess thinks she mutters a thank you.

"Can I get you anything else, Jess?" Abby asks softly.

"No…sleep's good."

Either her flatmates are exceptionally quiet or she's too exhausted to notice any noise, because she's normally a light sleeper and yet manages to sleep straight through to her alarm.

She wants to go back to sleep, she really does.

She wants to call in even more.

She lies in bed, head pounding, body wracked with chills, eyes aching, trying to convince herself it's okay to call in sick. No one will blame her, or even be surprised. But it's Friday. If she can make it through today, that's two days to recover. If she can make it through today, that means no one will touch her ADD. Connor can run it perfectly fine without mucking anything up; even Lester can, in a pinch. But for all their teasing about her size, they don't realize it takes her ages to get her chair back into a comfortably proper position after a much larger person has adjusted it for their own use. It's difficult to adjust something when one's feet can't touch the floor.

It's that thought which propels her out of bed and stumbling toward the bathroom, where she's confronted with a ghastly image of herself in the mirror. She shudders, piles on as much make-up as she can get away with, and downs enough paracetamol to last her the morning. In front of her closet, she takes a look at her dresses and heels and skirts and just can't. It's a jeans and trainers day, with a warm cardigan to offset the chill.

"We've already got a call-out; ARC's on the way," Connor greets her with, tossing her an apple (which she drops and doesn't bother with) and her coat. Glad to escape notice, she huddles in the backseat with an earpiece and thanks god for paracetamol.

Unfortunately, it can only do so much. One of the reasons she's so good at her job—in her opinion—is her ability to keep track of multiple pieces of information at once. She can keep an eye on incoming reports while hacking into security and directing the team using CCTV footage. Usually. Today, her head is swimming and it's all she can do to focus on whichever information seems to be the most important at the time. She must not be entirely successful, because Lester snaps at her to get her head on straight. Matt tells him to shut up on her behalf, and she smiles a bit. They wrap up around lunch—it was a creature incursion this time, but a cute and small one—and promise to bring her some food back.

This is the last thing she remembers, because suddenly putting her head down on the ADD and closing her eyes is the best idea she's ever had.

"Jess…Jess…" A quiet voice. Gentle. A hand lightly shaking her shoulder. "I'm taking her home."

"That's a good idea, mate. I've got the ADD."

"I've got Lester."

"Jess, can you stand up for me?"

That voice is definitely Becker, and if she could stand up for anyone, it would be him. Clutching his arm for support, she stands, takes a step, two, and then her knees just won't support her. The next thing she knows, she's half on the floor, half across Becker's lap, his hands in her hair and on her face, gloriously cool against her heated skin, the warmth from his body seeping into hers. She starts to shiver and can't stop. More people crowd around them, a blur of faces and sounds and she just concentrates on Becker.

"She's burning up," he says to someone. "Jess, have you taken anything?"

"Paracetamol…morning," she murmurs, leaning into his cool touch.

"Abby's gone to get some," says a vaguely Connor-like voice. "I'll get water."

"Here," Matt says, or at least that who she thinks, and a cool cloth is placed across her forehead.

"No," she moans, trying to push it off. "Too cold."

"You've a high fever, Jess," Becker says, removing the cloth only to start running it over her face and neck. "Why on Earth did you come in?"

To her horror, she starts to cry, and the tears make her face even colder. "I'm sorry, you're right," she sobs. "But the ADD—and Friday—and I don't know!"

"Hey…no, don't cry," Matt murmurs, stroking her hair lightly. "Becker's just worried, that's all."

"Please don't cry," echoes Becker in a choked voice, and she does her best, but she just feels so _ill_.

"Oi, what did you two do?" comes Abby's voice. "Honestly, I leave you alone with her for two minutes…here, sit her up."

Becker props her up so she's lying against his chest, and if she were feeling even the tiniest bit better, she would be squealing internally with delight. But at the moment, she can't do anything other than sit limply and let Abby help her take the medicine and drink a touch of water.

"Hopefully that'll help; I'd say her temperature's pushing forty," Matt says, his hand on her cheek.

"Shouldn't we take her to the medical wing?" asks Becker.

"No," Jess whimpers, struggling to sit up. "No, please?"

She's as weak as a kitten, and Becker has no difficulty holding her against him. "Shh, Jess. It's okay; I'll take you home. Just relax."

"Is there a reason everyone is on the floor," Lester asks loudly, and Jess bursts into tears once more, burying her head in Becker's shirt. "I—oh."

"Jess is sick. Becker was about to take her home," Matt says, standing up.

"Ah. Well. That seems like the proper course of action. Make sure you rest, Miss Parker." And then, like he's afraid he was too nice— "We don't need an epidemic around here."

"Come on, up we get," Matt says, and he and Connor haul Becker to his feet, who still has a good hold on Jess and easily pulls her into his arms. There are more words and voices, but they're all a blur as she rests her head against Becker and falls asleep.

The next few days are rather the same; changes are marked by who's in the chair that's been moved next to her bed. Sometimes she recognizes them; mostly she's not sure, but they always feel familiar and so she doesn't fight the cool cloths on her face or the medicine or even the cool showers a faraway voice tells her are to get her fever down. Sometimes she floats pleasantly and sometimes she burns, lashing out against whomever holds her and sometimes she clings tightly as she's plagued by nightmares of monsters and dinosaurs and dying friends. She speaks and is well aware of not making sense, but someone answers her back all the same, and there are times she cries and cries without being able to stop and someone holds her and strokes her hair and murmurs vague, comforting words until she fades out again.

After what seems like years in this fog, Jess wakes up one day and sees Abby reading a book.

"A…" she tries, but nothing comes out.

"Jess!" Abby exclaims immediately, helping Jess drink some water. "How are you feeling?"

Jess considers the question as she sips gloriously cold water. "Well enough to feel sick," she decides.

"Probably time for another dose," Abby says, placing a hand on Jess's forehead. "You do feel cooler, but definitely still sick."

Jess tries to sit up on her own, fails, and accepts Abby's help. Even that leaves her exhausted, and she yawns so hard she feels dizzy afterwards.

"Sleep, Jess," Abby says gently, and Jess's eyes are already slipping closed.

She sleeps for a long time, and when she wakes, up, she's sticky and sweaty and so much better she actually _wants_ to cry. This time it's Connor by her bed, and he smiles when he touches her cheek.

"Hey, I think your fever's finally broken!"

She smiles a bit, then glances at the glass of water, knowing better than to try and speak. Thankfully, he takes the hint and helps her drink. She actually sits up a little and takes the glass from him after the first few sips.

"Finally?" she asks once her throat isn't parched. "How long have I been sick?"

"It's been nearly a week, Jess," he says. "You were so out of it you didn't even know who we were, where you were."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, eyes filling with tears.

"No! No, I'm sorry!" Connor says quickly, looking so flustered she has to smile a bit. "I just—I mean—we were worried, but it's—it's because we care about you, yeah? So—yeah. Please don't cry. Abby'll kill me." She giggles just a little at that, and Connor looks relieved. "Speaking of Abby, I bet you'd like a bath?"

"Oh yes, please."

Between the three of them, Jess has a bath and, feeling almost human again, is bundled tightly in blankets and allowed to sit on the couch. She eats chicken soup brought over by Matt while Abby and Connor entertain her by updating her on what's gone on at the ARC in her absence, but once the soup is gone, so is she.

The next time she wakes up, Becker is there, and she smiles at him.

"You don't know how good it is to see that," he says, actually smiling back, which makes her smile wider. "It's good to have our Jess back."

Their Jess.

She likes that.


End file.
